I'M MOVING!

I've found a new home! Everyone needs a change of scenery once in a while. For me, the new scenery is over at wordpress with my new blog. Well, not new. It's the same old blog you see here, with just a bit of a face lift. I have different pages now and all sorts of other features that fit my current stage in life a little better than this blog. So please come over and check out my new diggs (still under construction). My new address is http://www.womenswritingcenter.wordpress.com/. Hope to see you there soon! Thanks for checking in!

Behind a Mask

I've been working on telling the truth. To myself, to others, in writing, and out loud. I've been working on being real and clear and authentic. Telling the truth means saying what really happened, telling how you really feel, expressing what you really want. And that's hard! Most of us live our lives hidden discretely behind a mask. We put up a front, we cover up, we lie, to make people think we are someone different than who we really are. Or perhaps we do it to protect ourselves or others from pain, embarrassment, or discomfort. Maybe we are afraid of what others will think of us, or how the truth will change our lives. The truth does change lives. That's just the way it is. But getting through those changes and turning them into positive, transformative experiences is what makes truth-telling so powerful.

This blog, and other attempts at sharing my writing are some of the ways I am practicing truth-telling. Not long ago, I hid most of my writing from others. I shared my writing with very few people, if at all. I was afraid of what others would think of me. Maybe they would think I'm not such a good writer. Maybe they'd be shocked by my subject-matter or opinions. Maybe my secrets would change their opinions of me. Maybe people would look at me differently, laugh at me, get angry with me, or think I'm odd. Maybe I'd get hurt.

But, with encouragement from writing friends, teachers, and loved ones, I took the leap and began "publishing." And here I am, 80 or so posts in and I have never felt better about myself and my writing. I don't know who reads this blog, or if anyone even does (if you do, why don't you comment once in a while!). But I post anyway. I write about what's going on in my life. I write what I am thinking about. I write to share, inspire, and express. And I try, with every word, to tell the truth.

Telling the truth is freeing in a way that can only be understood by experiencing it. First there is fear. Then there is the act of truth-telling - filled with all the anxiety, excitement, and questioning that comes with putting yourself "out there." But then there is this release - it's out there, you've set it free. You can't take it back and even if you can, it's too late. You've said it or written it and the moment has passed. Then you stand up, take a look at yourself, and realize that you're OK. Life did not end, the world did not come crashing down around you. Chances are, your family and friends did not immediately call you up to laugh at you, yell at you, blame you, or scorn you. You are OK. You've lived through it and you have changed because of it.

That's how I feel every time I post a blog entry or read a piece I've written out loud. I felt especially strong and free when my podcast was broadcast on Women Writing for (a) Change http://www.womenwriting.org/. My voice, my writing, and my truth are now out there for anyone in the world to hear. And I'm not so scared anymore. I've told my truth, I've set it free, and I'm moving on. I'm moving on to further truths, deeper truths. I'm moving on to become more real, more free, more clear, and more authentic.

I'm taking off the mask and stepping out into the world as ME. I don't want to be afraid anymore about what others will think or say or feel. I don't want to worry so much about the opinions of others. And I don't want to shape myself to fit anyone else's idea of who I should be. I want to be who I am. And though I haven't yet figured out completely who that is, I'll be sure to tell the truth when I do.

Craving a Good Book

Oh, I ache to sprawl out on a lawn chair to read a great novel. I yearn to curl up in a corner chair and dive into a classic. I dream of lazy days, laying on a blanket on the lawn with a bowl of apples and a juicy novel. I wish, I wish, I wish, I could read a novel right now!

But I can't. I am busy writing my thesis and cannot be distracted with great works of literature and art. I LOVE books, and tend to dive in and get obsessed. I often read books from start to finish in one sitting, if I tend to fall in love. Or, if I can't do that, I'll spend every free moment with book in hand, devouring as much as I can in the time I have to spare.

I miss books! Well, novels. For the past two years I have read books in enormous quantities. I have even read a novel or two. But all of my reading has been focused on my graduate studies and the ultimate thesis. I love everything I read, of course, but it also seemed a bit like work. Reading for school is a duty, a requirement (even if self-subscribed), and something that must be done instead of something that is desired.

I want to read a novel just for the thrill of it, for the pleasure, for the experience. I want to sink into imaginary worlds and fantastic fictional situations. I want to dive into character's lives and leap from page to page as the story bounds ahead. I want to read!

The best chances I might get to dive into a novel or two are through books on CD when I make my weekly drive to Cincinnati, or as I read books aloud to one of the students I tutor. Those opportunities, though not preferred, will have to do for now; until I finish my thesis, at least. The distraction is just too great, and I know if I picked up a novel right now I would read instead of write. And that can't happen!

So I'll wait. I'll listen to books on CD and live vicariously through my student. I'll sample short magazine articles and read snippets here and there from anthologies. And I'll yearn for the day when I can open a full-length novel, thick and heavy with words and stories, and dive in to reading again for the joy of it.

Where I'm From

Here's a free-write from the poem, "Where I'm From" by George Ella Lyon. When I say free-write, that means that I wrote freely - without worrying or editing or analyzing. This is just the way the words fell on to the page...try it yourself.


I am from beach sand and salt air,
From digging ‘til we reached water and
Mud pies in the back yard.
I am from painting rocks and riding bikes,
And learning to swim before I could walk.
I am from pungent odors from the Lobster Barn
And reeking low tide.
I am from itchy eyes and sneezing, the Memorial Day parade,
Summers at Spermacetti Cove, and sleigh-riding down the school hill.
I am from a single mom with three jobs,
A dad who never lived up to the expectation,
Fierce protection of siblings and
Diebold-Kuser wars.
I am from Marlboro Reds and Budweiser,
The step-daughter and the middle-child,
The fat girl and the best friend, and
The one who always got hurt in the end.
I am from road trips and heading out,
From secrets and hidden dreams,
From heart break and hope, and
Where do I go from here?
I am from listening and getting through it,
From “it’s not my shit” and “don’t cry out loud,”
From wading through flood waters and
Dancing in the hospital elevator.
I am from Jiffy-Pop and candle-lit dinners,
From concoctions and Chunky Beef over rice,
From making due and doing our best and
Never letting them get us down.
I am from who I once was to who I am now,
From transformation and evolution,
From a little bit crazy and a whole lot of fun,
From giving it all and wanting so much,
From wishing and hoping and dreaming and
Doing.

Waiting For My Soul to Catch Up

A teacher once explained to me the Native American belief that our souls need time to "catch up" after a journey. At the time, I was having trouble writing about a recent move from my home at the New Jersey Shore to the mountains of Colorado. I couldn't put my experiences into words and was even struggling to center myself in this new time and space. My teacher told me that I needed to let my soul catch up and settle back in to my body before I could fully take in those experiences. I almost feel the same way right now. I have just returned from a ten-day trip to the East Coast to visit home, family, and friends. Driving back to Indiana yesterday, going 7o mph on the Interstate, I think I may have left my soul behind. And now I am waiting for it to catch up.

I have unpacked, settled the material things, started the laundry, and quickly jumped back into the routine; but I am feeling a little "off," like something is missing. The last ten days were a flurry of activity. I stayed in a different place almost every night. I visited or drove through seven states. I played with nieces and a nephew, spent time with my siblings and my mother, visited friends, and hung out with children I used to take care of (now in their teens!). I walked for hours on the beach, my toes sinking into the wet sand as the waves gently washed over them, and journeyed around New York City on foot. I took a boat cruise and a train trip, and I drove (and drove and drove and drove). I had a wonderful time and I enjoyed every experience. The trip was fulfilling and exhausting. By the time I pulled in to my driveway back in Indiana last night, I don't think I could have driven another mile or slept anywhere but my own bed. It was so nice to be home (this home in Indiana).

But it still feels like I am not fully home yet. It feels like I am only halfway here. And here is different. It's almost like I am looking at it with new eyes. I wonder, will my eyes ever adjust so I see this place the same way I did before? Or is this new perspective the way it will be for me from now on? Once my soul catches up, will I just go back to the way I was? Or did this recent experience change me - like most experiences do - and transform me into someone new?

I'll have to wait and see. I'll have to wait for my soul to catch up and see who I am then, when body and soul merge back into one.

Heading Out

I'm hitting the road tomorrow; off on a ten day trip back home to New Jersey. I haven't been "home" in about nine months. That's a long time for me. I am looking forward to seeing family and friends, dipping my feet in the ocean, smelling the salty sea air, being back where everything is familiar and comfortable, and just being "home." But I am also looking forward to the journey, being on the road. I love road trips!

On my first big road trip, back in 1997, my brother and I drove across the country from New Jersey to California, in winter. We took our time and stopped at national parks, interesting places, and anything that caught our attention. Our destination was Boulder, Colorado, where I lived for six months. But we took the long way to get there.

Once in Colorado, the road trip bug had gotten a hold of me and I headed out in my little Volkswagen Golf as often as I could. My two new friends in Boulder, Kendra and Scott, often joined me for the ride. We cruised winding mountain roads, explored new paths, and set out across the great wide open of Colorado. We spent a lot of time at Rocky Mountain National Park, as well.

After moving back home from Colorado, I took trips up and down the east coast, spending a lot of time traveling to New England. I fell in love with the countrysides of Vermont and Massachusetts and found myself driving the quiet, country roads often. I searched for places to visit on these roads and found numerous treasures along the path. Included in these was the town of Concord, Massachusetts, home of Louisa May Alcott, Henry David Thoreau, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, among others. Walking the streets in Concord where these literary legends once lived, took me back in time. I visited their homes, their gravesites, and walked the trails at Walden Pond - every step taking me further into history. I count the discovery of Concord as one of the jewels of my travels.

Maine became another love of mine as I traveled the roads of New England. I've been up and down the coast of Maine and out into the countryside. I've camped in wet tents among towering trees and hiked wandering paths in deep woods. I've seen whales, sharks, and other marine life in the icy waters off the coast. I've shopped, eaten, and walked the hilly streets of Portland. I've climbed mountains at Acadia National Park and toured Monhegan Island by foot. And of course, I've seen the lighthouses. I miss Maine - and all my adventures there - and keep the memories of my travels in Maine close to my heart.

Then, three years after the first trip to Colorado, I returned. Again, I hit the road across the country, this time on my own. Driving up and down the east coast and around New England alone was one thing, but heading out on my own to Colorado was a whole other adventure for me. This time seemed different. I was older, more experienced, and more directed in my dreams. I had a destination in mind, now, and I headed toward it with determination. Unfortunately, the destination I intended turned out to be the wrong fit, so I left Colorado after only eight months and headed back to New Jersey. But not for long.

Soon I was on the road again, back to New England, around New Jersey and New York, and out to Ohio and Indiana to visit a friend, Kendra, that same friend who joined me on road trips in Colorado. One trip to the Midwest changed my life once again and sent me in a whole new direction. At Kendra's wedding in Indiana, I met her brother, Ron and started a relationship. Unfortunately, he lived in Indiana and I in New Jersey. So I hit the road often, driving out to Indiana for visits and also meeting him halfway in Somerset, Pennsylvania. But soon the relationship grew and I decided it was time to make a move. So I headed out again, this time to Yellow Springs, Ohio to live for a year and see where this road would take me.

A year later, the road took me to Ron's home in Indiana, where I live now. And that brings me to this moment in time - living in Indiana, far from home, and ready for a road trip. So I'm heading out tomorrow. The first leg of the trip will take us to Somerset, Pennsylvania, the town where Ron and I used to meet halfway. After that, it's straight on to New Jersey on Friday. Ron flies back to Indiana on Monday and I hit the road again to Rhode Island and Massachusetts, and of course, all over New Jersey. Then a week later, I will take that long road back to Indiana, to my new home, and set a new path for myself there.

The road is waiting....and I'm ready to head out.

Write it Down!

I remember the lists - grocery lists, things-to-do lists, Christmas card lists, birthday lists, lists of goals, and lists of dreams. Lists were a constant in my growing up years. My mother was a lister. I think, for her, putting things down on the page made her busy life easier to organize. I think she also liked the satisfaction of checking items off the list once she accomplished them. Growing up watching my mother write her lists and check off accomplishments, I learned to be a lister, too.

There are, of course, the usual lists like those mentioned above, but I have learned new ways of listing through my study of writing. Listing can be a wonderful journaling tool to get down thoughts, feelings, emotions, goals, dreams, fears, and so much more. Lists can also provide you with topics to write about, ideas for an upcoming project, inspirations for a creative activity, or evidence of the mind at work. But what I find the most powerful about listing is the practice: "Write it Down, Make it Happen" (the phrase borrowed from the book by the same name by Henriette Anne Klauser).

Writing something down - whether it be a grocery list or a list of life dreams - is a conscious act, and the first step in accomplishing the task. Sure, shopping for groceries is much easier than getting a master's degree, for example, but they are both items on a things-to-do list, tasks to be completed in life. Writing it down is the first step toward making it happen. Just that one simple act of putting the pen to the page and stating the goal - read 3 novels this month, take the car in for an oil change, join a health club, go back to school, climb Mount Everest - is enough to kick-start the action response.

What you are doing when you write down your dreams, goals, and desires, is putting out in the "universe" a positive statement about what you want. This one statement, phrased with decisiveness and clarity, can open opportunities you might never have imagined. Think about how you write in your journal (or wherever you write) - is it all negativity, sorrow, and complaining? If so, how does that make you feel when you write? I would guess that you feel full of negativity, sorrow, and complaints. But if you write honest, clear, positive statements, that lean toward hopefulness and motivation, I would guess that your feelings reflect this way of writing. And when we feel honest, clear, positive, hopeful, and motivated, we are more likely to take action on the things we want and put ourselves "out there" to receive these things.

I have used this practice of writing it down and making in happen in small and large ways. Of course there are the typical lists of things to do on a daily basis, but there is so much more. I use lists for writing topics, things I remember, things I love, places I've been, things I want, places I want to go, goals I hope to achieve, reasons to do (or not do) something, things to say, pros and cons, ways to give, lessons to learn (or lessons learned), opportunities to pursue, fears to overcome.....and the list goes on. (See, I'm always listing!)

Think about it...what do you want? What do you want to achieve? What steps do you have to take to get there? Have you thought of something yet? Well, go ahead, write it down. And then, make it happen!

Facing the Fear of Writing

A writing friend and I were recently talking about the fears many people have about writing. There is something that blocks us, something that tells us we "can't" or'"shouldn't" or "wouldn't know how to begin" writing. Perhaps it comes from childhood when we were taught the "rules" of writing, or from the many humiliating red marks on a writing assignment in school. Maybe we think we are not good enough or that writing is meant for someone else - someone more creative or talented or interesting or famous. Or maybe we think that what we have to say is just not that interesting.

Well, let me tell you this...anyone can write, anyone should write, and beginning is as easy as putting the pen to the page and writing the first word. We all have lives full of stories, adventures, opinions, comedies, and tragedies. We all have stories to share. What you have to say is interesting and wonderful and worth sharing with whomever is willing to hear it.

But there are still fears. Pat Schneider, author of Writing Alone and With Others says, "The first and greatest fear that blocks us as writers is fear of the truth we may discover." We often walk through the world oblivious to or perhaps ignoring who we really are inside, or what we really want from life. We shut ourselves off to the inner emotions so we can "get by" in the world. Facing these secrets is terrifying. What will happen to us if we discover we aren't living the life we really want? Or that we are in a relationship that makes us unhappy? Or we really wish we could be someone other than the person we present to the outside world? These discoveries can be scary and painful and confusing, but they can also lead to personal transformation that will change your life. Schneider says, " Where there is fear, there is buried treasure. Something important lies hidden - something that matters." And she continues, "The act of writing is a tremendous adventure into the unknown, always fraught with danger. But the deeper you go and the longer you work at your art, the greater will be your treasure."

So how do we begin writing when we are paralyzed by so much fear? There are many suggestions from experts in the writing field such as Pat Schneider, Julia Cameron, Natalie Goldberg, Tristine Rainer, and Christina Baldwin. Pick up a book by any one of these writers and you are bound to find useful, inspiring, and creative advice about the writing process. I should know, I have read everything these authors have written and much more. But I'll tell you what works for me, and it is probably the simplest, cheapest, and most portable form I know. What do I do? I just write. I get a notebook - any kind from a $.99 drugstore notebook to an elaborate, handcrafted journal. I get a pen - again, any kind will do as long as you are comfortable with the grip, color, and the way the ink flows across the page. Then I sit down anywhere - at home, in the car, outdoors, at a coffee shop, while waiting for an appointment, on a train, at a bookstore - anywhere. And I write.

I write about what is important to me at the moment or something I am planning. I write about my relationship or my family or friends. I write about how I am feeling about particular topics or something that pissed me off. And when I can't think of anything to write about or when I feel blocked or overwhelmed or tired or confused, I try other tactics. I describe what I see in front of me, paying particular attention to detail. I use writing prompts such as Natalie Goldberg's "I remember..." exercise. I play with words and sounds and try to create interesting combinations of phrases and poetry. I write quotes or song lyrics I can remember and go from there. I make lists. I jot down ideas. I even doodle. I do whatever I need to do, whatever I want to do to get the creativity flowing and the words down on the page.

There is never a requirement for how much to write, how often, or for how long. There is no right way to shape your writing in a set form or structure. There are never any rules about what you need to say or how you say it. There are no requirements at all, except to write. That's it - pick up the pen, put it to the page, and write. Face the fear, whatever it is, and just write.

Don't worry; if this is your personal journal, no one is ever going to see it unless you want them to. This is a safe space, for you and your words alone. No one is there to judge or criticize or laugh at you. No one is there to comment, raise their eyebrows, give suggestions, or make changes. This writing is yours. You are in charge of what is written and what becomes of that writing. Later, if you feel comfortable, perhaps you can find a way to share this writing with others. But until then, keep it as your own. Make your writing time special, sacred, important. Give this time and space to yourself as a gift. Use writing as a way to take care of yourself, appreciate yourself, even pamper yourself. Tell your story and let it live on the page, in your heart, and maybe someday, out in the world. Because it is your story - and it is important.

If Women Ruled the World

If women ruled the world, what would our lives be like? Would we have time to gather together for coffee in the afternoon just to talk, laugh, be together? Would we be able to express ourselves however we wished, follow our passions, and have the courage to be who we really are? Would we risk eating whatever we wanted because it just tastes so good? Would we work together in community to create an environment of sharing, compassion, and well-being? Would LOVE be a word spoken out loud, all the time, without fear or shame or worry? Would nature be protected and the environment nurtured? Would we learn from each other and teach what we've learned? Would we reach out to each other, holding hands in peace and togetherness? Would children be as safe, nurtured, educated, and valued as they should? Would we dance, sing, shout, paint, create, build, write, and play just because we love it? Would we all have a voice and the freedom to be heard?

What would the world be like if women ruled? What would you change if you could?

Slowing Down Time

My niece, Camden, turned five today. And when she woke up this morning, my sister told me Camden said, "It's my birthday! I'm FINALLY five!" Like she had been waiting so long. I guess to a small child it seems like forever before you grow up. Everyone else is older, can do more, has seen more. Everyone else has more stuff, gets to take part in more adventures, has more responsibilities. Five-year-olds are just beginning.

I hope Camden doesn't grow up too fast. Her older sister, Madeline is already in first grade - impossible to comprehend! Camden will be starting Kindergarten next year. It goes too fast. Especially now that I live far away and can't watch them grow.

I wish I could slow down time and keep them little for a while longer. Pretty soon Madeline will be too cool to hang out with her Aunt Dawny, and Camden will shoot up like a weed. Their cousins Oriah and Braden are growing up fast, too. And now there's another one on the way. I just can't fathom the speed of time. One moment they are infants, cradled in your arms. And the next moment, they are turning five, or learning to tie their shoes, or potty training, or learning to read. Where did the time go?

Happy Birthday, Camden. I love you.

Feminism Inside (and) Out

"... I wrote about discrimination, abortion, violence against women. I wrote about women's health, sexism in the media, cultural imagery. I even wrote about women (other women) with eating disorders. And quietly, privately, I starved myself to death. There you have it: intellectual belief without the corollary emotional roots; feminist power understood in the mind but not known, somehow, in the body." ~Caroline Knapp, Appetites: Why Women Want

I read these sentences twice. I underlined them, and underlined them again. I put stars in the margins and dog-eared the page. This is it! This is me. Total and unquestionable belief in the equal rights of women, a woman's power, and women's issues; but doubt and insecurity in my own life.

I believe that a woman is beautiful no matter her shape, size, color, or ethnicity; and yet, I have struggled my whole life with weight issues and low self-esteem related to appearance. I believe that women are just as strong, intelligent, creative, and powerful as men (more so in many ways); and yet, I am shy, self-conscious, and quiet around men, and I let them take the lead. I believe that women deserve the right to do it all and have it all; and yet, I wouldn't mind being "taken care of" (financially) by a man. I believe that women are exploited in the media, that sex is not what we are all about, that we should be valued for our hearts and minds and everything else that makes up who we are; and yet, I want to be sexy, I want to be looked at, I want to be wanted.

Feminist in thought, but not in action. Not in the way I see myself. Not in the way I treat myself. Not in the way I let others treat me. And that's not who I want to be. That's not how I want others to see me. And maybe they don't. Maybe it's just all in my head - these self-doubts, these insecurities, these feelings of low self-worth and unimportance. I am not that girl. I don't want to be that girl. I have worked hard to be someone other than that, someone better. But the insecurities still creep in, the self-doubt still takes over, the feelings of insignificance and unimportance do not disappear.

I want to shout from the rooftops how important it is for women to believe in themselves, to take care of themselves, to trust, love, and honor themselves. I want to teach young girls to hold on to who they are and not let society, the media, culture, men, or even other women tear them down, break them apart, silence them. I want to reach out to women who struggle with body image and tell them they are beautiful in every way. I want to raise the voices of young girls and women who have been quieted. I want to hear them loud and clear, strong and powerful. I want every woman, everywhere to discover herself, discover her power, and live her life in freedom.

But I sit here quietly typing away, hidden from view, anonymous. I don't know if I am where I want to be. I don't know if I am who I want to be. I still struggle with my weight and issues of self-esteem, even though I have completely transformed my body. I still fall in line behind the boys, even though I act like I am strong. I still let others do the talking, even though I have my own ideas. I still don't reach my full potential, even though I could. I still don't go for every opportunity, even though I should.

But it's not all bad. I've come a long way. I have accomplished a great deal - enormous, amazing things, as a matter of fact. And every day I take another step toward the direction of my dreams, toward who I want to be. I know with my whole heart what I want for the world's population of women, for my female family and friends, for my nieces, my future daughters, and for all young women. If only I could feel so confident about what I want for myself and experience feminism inside and out.

How Writing Changed My Life

It is impossible to recount all the ways writing has changed my life. But is has, and still does. Writing has transformed me in body, mind, and spirit. Writing has saved me, it has sustained me. Writing is the one thing I can count on at any time of day or night, in any frame of mind, for any reason, and in any capacity. Writing is my friend, my constant companion, my therapist, and my conscience. Writing is what I turn to when I need solace and understanding, comfort and compassion, listening and accepting, creative expression and artistic adventure. The writing experience is non-judgmental and non-critical, open and welcoming, free and easy. Getting down my thoughts, ideas, passions, obsessions, questions, experiences, dreams, and accomplishments in words keeps me alive, gives me strength, teaches me, and transforms me.

Writing is a part of my life in the everyday scribbles in my journal, status reports on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/), emails to friends and family, and this blog. Writing is also a part of my creative life as I work to craft personal narrative, poems, a little fiction, and other writing experiments. I also write for self-understanding, personal expression, and inner transformation. To pursue the writing life I desire, I attend a weekly writing workshop with the amazing, Women Writing for (a) Change (http://www.womenwriting.org/). I am in the process of writing my graduate thesis with a focus on Women's Transformative Writing Process. And I am creating writing workshops for women to inspire others to use writing as a tool for transformation (http://www.womenswritingcenter.com/).

Writing is a part of my everyday. With each word written, each poem crafted, or personal story put down on the page, I am transformed. Through writing, I learn about myself -my wants and needs, my desires and passions, my obsessions and pitfalls, my fears and dreams. I learn about what I can do to create change in my life - and in changing my life, I create change in the lives of those around me. Writing is a generosity to others. As I learn more about who I am, I work hard to become a better person, to take positive actions, and make beneficial changes in myself and the world around me. That generosity to myself reaches out to others as the gift of writing.

As I said, it is impossible to recount all the ways writing has changed my life, but here are a few:

• I have gained greater appreciation and respect for the world around me by paying attention to and writing down the details.
• Writing has seen me through break-ups and losses, confusion and self-doubt, and has been a comfort to me in sadness and pain.
• The journal was an important tool in the total transformation of my body and spirit when I recently lost over 80 pounds. I used the journal, not only as a food diary, but also to record my feelings about the physical and emotional changes through the process of losing weight.
• In writing, I tell the truth and express myself more clearly and more creatively than I can with the spoken word. Writing gives me a voice on the page that I do not necessarily have in public.
• Writing has given me the strength and the motivation to create significant change in my life from moving across the country, to applying to college and eventually graduate school, and even pursuing my writing dreams. I truly believe in the practice of writing it down and making it happen.
• Writing keeps a record of my life - my adventures and experiences, my relationships, my dreams and goals, my losses and gains. My writing is the evidence of my existence.

Writing has changed my life - in all the ways listed above and many more. I discover new ways to create change through writing almost every day. Writing is a transformative process that continues to evolve and grow. Writing is a journey, and I am traveling on...

Appetites

When I wrote the previous post last night, I was hungry. I had also been reading a book all day called Appetites: Why Women Want by Caroline Knapp about anorexia and women's desires and needs and appetites (not only food related!). It must have all gone to my head. Today, I am OK. Normal eating patterns (for a dieter, that is), fine mood, average day. I just want to be clear that I am OK, lest some of you read my previous post and begin to worry. It was a hungry kind of day and my mind was swirling with ideas and obsessions.

The subject of women's appetites does get the wheels turning....what do women want and why do we want it? Oh there's so many things I want, and so many reasons for wanting those things. Basic needs aside, there are the material things - a nice house, nice car, clothing, home items, entertainment items, etc. etc.; there are also the leisure activities - vacations to exotic or cultural places, long weekends, and days off just for fun are among those on the top of the list; and then there are the emotional things - and that list goes on and on. There are the desires for love and affection, for personal fulfillment and self-acceptance, for accomplishment and achievement. There is the need for companionship and comfort, personal safety and positive appearance. There is the appetite for freedom and excitement, new adventures and living fully. But then there is the desire to simplify - to get down to the bare essentials and just live life. How can one person want so much and so little all at once? And how does a woman even begin to express, take action on or fulfill these desires?

It seems as if the questions keep coming, the appetites keep growing. It seems as if it is a never ending circle of wanting-getting-wanting more. And I am not suggesting that is a bad thing. How else do we grow and learn if not by trying new things, wanting more, making plans, and reaching goals?

What are your appetites? What do you want/desire/need? Think about it. Write it down. Then take the steps to satisfy those desires and fulfill those needs. You deserve it!

Hungry

I have been following a pretty strict diet regimen since last Monday (7 days in, now). I am consuming about 1,200 calories a day. Sometimes, I don't even reach 1,200. I obsessively write everything down. I do some form of exercise every day. And I weigh myself every morning, naked, fresh out of bed, at almost the exact time each day. I am obsessed, I know. I've been this way before.


This is what I do. I get obsessed. I throw my whole self into something and devote the majority of my time, energy, and thinking to this obsession. This time, as it has been before, the obsession is dieting. I am striving to lose weight, get toned, and fit into those cute spring and summer outfits I desire. I am striving to feel good about myself, look good, and be the skinny girl I have always wanted to be but never could.

And that's the obsessive part. After losing 80+ pounds recently, I am the skinny girl I have always wanted to be, for the most part. But in my mind, I always have more to lose. Especially now since I have put on a few pounds in the last few months - the results of the winter blues, living in the Midwest where everything is served "homestyle," living with a man who likes his sweets and snacks, and my own issues with food. So I have come to this place in my mind where the need, desire, compulsion to lose weight has taken over.

But I'm hungry. And dieting is difficult when the kitchen is stocked with all sorts of goodies - ice cream, m&ms, potato chips, cinnamon buns, french fries - none of them mine and all of them tempting! But what's ridiculous is that I wouldn't normally eat these things anyway. It's just that I'm hungry and they look good.

Why am I starving myself on 1,200 calories a day, you ask? Why am I denying myself a treat here and there? Why am I putting myself through this misery? Why am I so obsessed? Good questions, all of them, and not easy to answer. The simple answer is that I want to be skinny. But the issues go deeper than that. And unearthing them is a drama I am not yet prepared for. So instead, I will continue my obsession, writing everything down, weighing myself daily, exercising, and working hard to be that skinny girl - working hard and still hungry.

Earth Day

It is Earth Day today. I like Earth Day. I like the fact that we name this day to celebrate the earth, honor the earth, and try to make conscious decisions to care for and nurture the earth. On Earth Day it is important to consider what you can do to live a healthier, "greener," and more environmentally conscious life. It is important to think about what you can change, what small steps you can take, what little efforts you may make. It is really not that difficult. Creating change in your life and for the earth can be quite simple and amazingly rewarding.

Granted, I am not the most environmentally conscious human being on the planet, but I try. I do small things to live a healthier, greener, more environmentally conscious life. And I make an effort to try new things when I am able. At least I am trying....are you? Here are some well-known suggestions to consider or not:

Plant a garden

Buy locally

Buy organic

Cook at home

Recycle

Walk or ride a bike instead of a car when you can

Eat less meat

Spend time outdoors

Make a donation to an environmental organization

Use reusable bags at the grocery store

Turn off the lights when you leave a room

Use reusable water bottles

Don't let the water run

Plant a tree

Reduce the amount of waste you contribute to landfills

Do something, anything.

I would love to hear what you are doing today on Earth Day, and everyday, to celebrate, honor, and nurture the earth. I'd also love to hear some of your suggestions for living a healthier, greener, and more environmentally conscious life. My list only cracks the surface. What can you add?

Here are just a few sites to visit (do you have any to recommend?):

http://www.earthday.net/

http://www.care2.com/

http://www.organicearthday.org/

Build a Tolerance for What You Cannot Bear - a prompt from Natalie Goldberg

Life takes getting through - going on. We are, every day, letting go of things, moving over things, making wide circles around the things that scare us. Because of fear, we avoid so much, we do not allow a great deal, we walk away from mountains of opportunities. What if, instead, we faced the fear head on? What if we stood up, raised our eyes and stared directly into the face of fear? Would we die? Would it kill us? Maybe. There are dangers in this world, yes. But I'd say - mostly - probably not. Our fears are so scary because we feed them, we let them grow, we avoid them and allow them to fester. If, instead, we gathered the courage to face our fears, perhaps they wouldn't be so frightening after all.

Today, make a list of your fears. Write as many as you can, as many as you want, as many as you can bear to admit. Then choose one to conquer. Take the steps to face and get over this fear. You'll feel better. You'll learn something. You'll grow. When you've done that, choose another fear to conquer. Keep going, day by day, fear by fear, until you've faced them all. Only then can you live your life free of the terror that has always lived inside of you.

Tell Me What You Will Miss When You Die - a prompt by Natalie Goldberg

Books, blank paper, and coffee.

Family, of course,

And those I love.

A sunny spring day, laying in the sun.

A walk in the woods and the ocean.

Strawberries and Cool Whip, brownies, too.

Margaritas, wine, flowers, and thunderstorms.

Inspiration and quiet.

Festivals and light, learning something new.

Peaches and iced tea.

Feeling good about myself and sleeping in.

Movies that make me cry and music to sing along to.

A quiet day in a museum, a picnic in a park.

The sounds and smells of summer.

A winter blizzard - while warm and cozy indoors.

Fall...

Travel, cooking, plans for the future.

Coconut cream pie.

Daisies and sunflowers.

The love of a child.

Jeans, t-shirts and flip-flops.

Warmth, blue skies, and birds.

The excitement of tomorrow.

Butterflies and bumblebees.

Ice cream cones with sprinkles and hot apple pie.

Family gatherings, gift-giving.

Asking questions and finding answers.

Tree-lined streets, walks on the beach, memories of childhood.

Laughing, loving, living.

Come for Coffee

Come for coffee.
We'll write together, share our work aloud
And give each other supportive feedback.
We'll have coffee and treats -
What would you like to bring?
I'll brew a fresh pot -
regular or decaf, flavored if you'd like.
I'll light a candle, gather the chairs in a circle
And put fresh flowers in a vase.
I'll wait for you to arrive
With excitement and anticipation.
I'll look forward to these mornings -
Sharing coffee, conversation, creativity and compassion.
Come for coffee, I'll be here.

Dawn to Dusk

Facebook says I am a Dusk.

I took a quiz on Blogthings (http://www.blogthings.com/areyouduskordawnquiz/) the other day that asked if I am a Dusk or a Dawn. Being a Dawn by name, I thought this might be interesting. The quiz asked the following questions (with my answers in italics):

Your best days:
Have a late start
Have an early start

You rather have a job where:
You were completely free to do what you wanted
You had a lot of potential for success

You get more done:
On a rainy day
On a sunny day

If you had to choose, you'd describe yourself as:
Conventional
Weird

You have your greatest moments of inspiration:
At work
At play

Your favorite music is:
Evocative and emotional
Energetic and inspiring

You rather be thought of as:
Unique
Heroic

Apparently, these answers transformed me from a Dawn to a Dusk! Ah, the magic of Facebook! Really, though, when I read the definition of what a Dusk is, I understood. This is me.

You Are Dusk
You are a naturally idealistic and creative person. You look forward to nights where everything is possible.You spend most of your energy on play. Work is okay, but the true you emerges after the work day is done.You're an offbeat type that doesn't like rules or schedules. Life's too short to waste at a desk in a cube.Whether you spend your night socializing or working on side projects, you like that your time is yours.

I'd be interested to see what the definition of a Dawn might be!

Ending

Last night, I got together with three women from my small group at Women Writing for (a) Change. We gathered for dinner, wine, conversation and closure, as our small group time together has come to an end. Fortunately, three of us will still take part in the writing group together but one of us is moving on. As I thought about our group's finish, I wrote a few words to mark the ending of this phase and the beginning of something new. Here are my thoughts on ending...

It seems like things are always ending. Good-bye is always at the tip of the tongue. Things begin, with all the flourish of beginning - a welcome, a celebration, the awkward getting-to-know-each other phase. But before long everything usually becomes comfortable, easy, common and natural. Like we have always been a part of each other’s lives, always been this group. And we go on with the day to day, growing closer in our connections and appreciating each other’s presence and gifts. But then, all of a sudden, there comes an end – a good-bye. One phase of this life ends to make way for the next phase. Sometimes there is sadness, a loss, grief. Sometimes relief. Sometimes we are ready for the end and live in anticipation for the next beginning. But that ending – that good-bye, that moving away or moving apart or moving on – must be noticed, must be acknowledged. Closure is what many call it. Coming to a conclusion, settling on a solution, finalizing, being at peace and letting it go – these things are necessary at an end.

There are words to signal an ending. There are gestures and rituals to signify that something is coming to a close. There are large productions, festive send-offs, tearful ceremonies, and all sorts of ways to document the memories of a time spent together. There is a way to say good-by with heart and a way to end things with cruelty and pain. There are ways to honor endings, and ways to let them go quietly. There are endings that seem to never end and there are good-byes said so quickly it is as if the words were not even spoken. There are so many ways to bring something to a close, so many words that mean good-bye.

I like our ending, because it is not an end at all. We may say good-bye, pass the stone one last time and distinguish the candle; but like the smoke that rises from the flame and lingers through the room; our experience lingers in my heart. And I know we shall meet again.

Blah...

The sun has not shone its face for a few days. And when it has, it has been short lived. I'm feeling so blah. I miss the sunshine...and where is this spring weather we are supposed to be having? Our normal high for this time of year is 65 degrees. Today we are struggling to even get to 50 degrees. Blah!

I can feel the effects of this chilly, damp weather on my mood. It is spring, I want so badly to get outside, walk in the sunshine, smell the flowers and smile at the beauty of the earth in spring. Instead, I hole up inside, bundle myself in sweatshirts and thick socks, and wait - hope - for the sun to rise tomorrow.

I know there are worse things than a few clouds. And maybe it's not the weather at all that has got me feeling so blah. But I am finding it difficult to get motivated. I am tired. Headaches from allergies (how is this weather causing allergies, I ask?) are bringing me down. And nothing, nothing is sparking my interest.

Blah, blah, blah.....boring post, I know. But now you know how I feel.

What to do the first morning you are alone…

(from a WWf(a)C prompt)

Throw off the covers and leap out of bed.
Hoist open the windows, breathe deep,
Let the sun in, the air in, the world in.
Take a warm shower.
Use that expensive body wash you’ve been saving.
Let the scent of lavender and the trickle of water wash over you.
Get dressed in your most comfortable clothes –
A t-shirt and jeans would be my choice.
Let your hair air dry.
Make a pot of coffee and while it’s brewing, wander around the house.
Look at photographs, touch the silky rim of the blanket your mother gave you years ago,
Drink in the perfumes and colors of the fresh flowers on the coffee table, listen to the silence.
Slice a ripe peach and sit down at the kitchen table with your first cup of coffee.
Savor the peach, the light cascading through the kitchen windows and this time alone.
Spend some time writing.
Look out the window and admire the beauty of the day.
Then get out there.
Run barefoot in the grass, climb your favorite tree, relax in the sun,
Pick a flower to take home with you, follow a butterfly.
Let the day take you on a journey.
Appreciate everything.
At sunset, sit on your front porch and watch the shadows grow longer,
The sun sink below the tree line.
Stay outside listening to the chirping crickets and gentle breezes through the trees
Until you catch a chill.
Inside, brew a pot of tea.
Sit down in a comfortable chair with a favorite book.
Read, until your eyes grow heavy and your thoughts turn to sleep.
Dream of another day like this one and savor the solitude.

Stuck

Write about what you see. Write about your oldest memories. Write about your grandmother’s hands. Write about the ocean.

Begin a sentence with, “I remember…” Flip through a favorite book and pull out a line that grabs you. Steal a line from a favorite poem. Dig through your journals for inspiration.

Make a list of the “stepping stones” of your life. Write about a random object. Re-tell a vivid dream. Just write.

The advice pours in. The inspirations fly. The ideas circle about like a whirlwind above my head. But I’m stuck. It is Monday night, 8pm. I have to find something to read to my writing group tomorrow. I’d love it if I could read something fresh, something brilliant, something creative and powerful and wonderful. Something that would leave them speechless, with chills or tears or an overwhelming sense of envy for my gift. But I’m stuck. Nothing is coming. Nothing brilliant or fresh or powerful, that is. Only this.

Write about why you think you are stuck. Write about getting un-stuck. Write about a time when you wish you could be stuck. Was there ever such a time? Or forget about being stuck all together and just write, damn it. Put pen to page, scribble a few lines and let go. It will come. And if it doesn’t? Try again later. But I can’t. Aren’t you listening? I have to find something to read to my group tomorrow. I don’t want to read them shit. I know, I know, we all write shit sometimes, but I don’t want them to know that I do. I don’t want to show them this babbling mess of self-doubt, questioning and arguing with myself. What would they think of me?

Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, grammar – or the critics (internal or external). Just write. Open the notebook and go. Let it flow. Time yourself – 10 minutes, 15 minutes, whatever it takes. Keep your hand moving. Don’t stop. Don’t edit. Don’t cross out. Just write. Just write what? Write about my Saturday of running errands and hanging out with friends and watching a movie? Write about my lazy Sunday where I accomplished nothing except spending quality time with my boyfriend? Write about the dog waking us up at 3am and scaring us half to death? Write about the long drive to Lawrenceburg and tutoring today? Blah, blah, blah. No one wants to hear about that, not even me and I am living it.

Make a list of things you love. Make a list of things you hate. List your dreams, your worries, your childhood memories. List the things you want to do in the next year or the things you want to do in your lifetime. List the simple things that make you smile. Or your favorite songs. List anything, as long as it gets the pen moving. Just write. Oh, my goodness…will this ever end? I know all the writing prompts. I have been reading about writing and studying writing and living writing for years. And yet, right now, today, this moment, I am stuck. I can’t write a list and even if I tried, I’d get bored or tired or uninspired. The list would seem flat and my memory would fail and my dreams would seem dim. I can’t do it right now, I’m stuck.

Well then don’t do it. No one says you have to. Maybe you’re just not ready right now. Maybe you’re just not inspired. Maybe the time is just not right. Maybe you need to wait a bit and find other things to feed your creativity. Maybe it is OK to be stuck.

Well, I don’t know what to say. I have never given myself permission to be stuck before. I have never said it was OK to NOT WRITE. Wow. What do I do instead?

I think I’ll go write in my journal.

Spring in Indiana

So it's spring now. And I am here in Indiana. I feel so far from home, sometimes, when I think about the little, familiar things of my life. The change of seasons usually sparks memories for me of rituals and traditions back home.

In spring, in New Jersey, one of my rituals was to take my first barefoot walk on the beach as soon as it was warm enough to do so. Right now my feet are itching for that grainy sand - warmed by the sun, crusty with salt and fresh from the winter's solitude. I am imagining the bright blue sky, golden sunshine burning bright overhead and the churning ocean waves, their soothing sound echoing through me. The breeze brings in the smell of the salty sea, as it leaves its mist upon my skin. Pure white clamshells, black muscles, pink scallops and blueclaw crabs litter the beach, deposited here from the last winter storm. The gulls cry overhead, cruising the sky above the beach for a tasty treat - possibly a fish, a clam or even some poor visitor's sandwich! It is a peaceful stroll down the sandy beach toward the shore. It is something I can do in my sleep, I've done it so many times before. This is my home, my roots, my history. The salty sea is in my blood, a piece of my heart, ingrained in my every part of me.

Spring in Indiana is different. Of course there is no ocean beach to stroll. No salty sea breeze. No clamshells or seagulls or ocean waves. In Indiana, the sun still shines bright. The sky is still a beautiful, expansive blue. The birds appear at the feeder, their songs and chirps creating a lovely racket out my window. There are buds on the trees. Crocuses and daffodils are beginning to emerge from the cold earth. There is new growth abound. It is beautiful. But it's different. It's new. It is something I have to learn, a history I have to wait for. I'll have to create my own ritual for the beginning of spring here. I can't very well take that first barefoot walk on the beach. But what can I do?

I'll plant a garden here. I'll dig my hands into the earth and create something new. I will make my mark upon the soil, and plant seeds that will sprout new beginnings. I will grow flowers, vegetables, strawberries and memories. And next year, when the first day of spring arrives and I am itching for that walk upon the shore in New Jersey, perhaps I will have new rituals to guide me, new memories to comfort me, and a new history to bring me home.

Spring is Coming!!!

Spring arrives on Friday, but today it is sunny and beautiful and forecast to be in the 7o's, so I couldn't help but think of some things I love about spring...

1. Flowers
2. Wearing t-shirts outside.
3. The smell of fresh cut grass.
4. Opening the windows and letting in the fresh air.
5. Laying/sitting outside on a blanket/chair, reading a book.
6. The sounds of children playing.
7. Lemonade and Iced Tea taste so much better in the spring.
8. Planting a garden.
9. Watching the spring birds return and trying to identify them.
10. In NJ, I used to love taking that first barefoot walk on the beach in the spring...in Indiana, I'll have to come up with a new ritual.
11. Earth Day (April 22nd).
12. Spending ANY amount of time outdoors - walking, sitting, reading, playing cornhole (we do that her in Indiana!), bar-b-ques (here they call them "grill-outs!), cloud-watching and so much more!
13. The colors of spring - new green grass and leaves on trees; beautiful blue skies; golden sunshine; white, puffy clouds; flowers of every color, shape, size and variety; the way the water (any water) sparkles in the sun; pink lemonade.........

The Blank Page

I haven't written in a while.
I've been busy, blocked, sad and searching.
The words just wouldn't come to mind, to heart, to lips, to pen...
To the blank page.

I sat down to write a poem, but only tears flowed.
I curled up to begin a story, but all I created was anxiety.
I made an attempt to craft an essay, but I was overwhelmed.

So instead, I ate chocolate and had a glass of wine.
I pulled weeds in the garden, watched a little television and went out with friends.
I busied myself with a looming deadline, self-created, of course.

All the while, the blank page waited.
Now, there's so much to say, so much to tell.
There's so much to reveal, so much to discover.
And the blank page sits open and ready to take it all in.

Losing Julie

I am shocked and saddened by the loss of Julie, a writer and friend from my Tuesday morning writing class with Women Writing for (a) Change. I met Julie during our class last semester and always appreciated her honesty, wit and compassion.

I got to know Julie much better during a small and intimate writing retreat last fall at the Moye Spiritual Life Center in Northern Kentucky. During our weekend writing retreat, Julie and I shared writing, stories, laughter and snacks in the Girls' Cafe (she loved her Diet Coke!). Julie treated me with compassion and respect, kindness and friendship as we shared pieces of ourselves through writing and discussion. I will treasure the supportive and compassionate note she wrote to me after I read a particularly difficult piece in our group that caused the tears to flow. In that note, Julie congratulated me on my bravery and thanked me for sharing my work. I thank Julie now, for sharing herself.

It was my hope that I would get to know Julie better and hear more of her wonderful stories when we recently became Facebook friends and then began another writing class together with WWf(a)C this winter. Sadly, Julie passed away suddenly last Sunday.

Julie will be remembered and missed.

Creating in the Middle of Things

Creating in the middle of things. It's another inspiration from Eric Maisel, the Creativity Coach, from his book, Coaching the Artist Within. The idea is to create in the middle of things - in the middle of turmoil and tension, in the middle of stress and sensation, in the middle of boredom and beauty, in the middle of life! Maisel says, "You are always in the middle of your personality, always in the middle of your stream of consciousness, always in the middle of your culture. There is no exit."

Writing, for me, comes in waves. I have let it come in waves. I have submitted to the idea that there are times when I am not inspired, when I am tired, when I want to shut off my brain and watch mindless television for an hour or two. I have let the writing slip off to the side when I've had "better" things to do, something more fun and less stressful, something easier and more shallow. I have let life - and relationships and jobs and adventures and responsibilities - take over. But I still write. Because writing is what I love. It is my passion and my dream, my obsession and my life.

I write in the middle of things. I bring notebooks and pens with me wherever I go. I try to write every day. I write when I am happy and when I am sad. I write when I feel lost and also when I know exactly where I am. I write for solace and celebration. I write in fear and with tremendous courage. I write when I am weak and also when I am strong. I write, I create - in the middle of things.

But there's more I could do. I could give up that hour or two of television even though I just want to shut off my mind - and write anyway. I could push through the exhaustion - and write anyway. I could acknowledge that I may not be inspired at any given moment - and write anyway. I could forgo those plans with friends even though everyone else is going out and I haven't seen them in a while - and write anyway. But I also have to live my life - otherwise what do I write about?

I realize writers (and all artists) make sacrifices for their art. And I do make some. I have to, otherwise I wouldn't write. But as a writer, I must live, too. I must experience new things and have wild adventures; I must laugh and cry, fall in love and break-up. I must observe the beauty of the world and also open my eyes to the ugliness. I must let in the pain and give of myself. I must take and I must share.

I must dive in to the middle of things, and while I'm there, swirling around in the mess and the beauty, the laughter and the pain, the misery and the excitement; I must create - right in the middle of things. As you must, too.

Think about this...

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

~ William Stafford ~

Risking Mania

"It is a dare: find your passion, find your energy, ignite your being, and, in the process, risk mania." ~Eric Maisel, Coaching the Artist Within

I'm reading the book, Coaching the Artist Within by Eric Maisel. Today I read a chapter about positive obsessions. We tend to think of obsessions as negative things - things we need to overcome, forget, let go of or heal from. But obsessions can be positive and healthy, as well. Positive obsessions are things that nurture us, inspire us, motivate us, keep us thriving and dreaming, creating and living. A positive obsession is when you love something (or someone) passionately, think about it constantly, let other obligations or tasks slip away because of your intense interest in it. You work at this obsession tirelessly, letting it interfere with daily life. You give it the power to elevate your mood, raise your heart rate, alter your eating and sleeping patterns and consume your dreams.

I have had many positive obsessions in my life. When I am in these obsessive phases, these things have consumed my mind from morning til night. They have altered my typical patterns, made me push other things aside, kept me focused on a single train of thought and motivated me to work hard toward a specific goal.

When I decided to lose weight a few years ago, I became obsessed with diet, exercise, clothing sizes, body image and health. Though I may have been annoying to others (as some of you have told me) I needed this obsession to keep me motivated, to fuel me and power me through the weight loss. It was hard work (it still is!) and I know I couldn't have done it if I had gone at it half-heartedly. I needed to focus on the goal of weight loss and let other interests and obligations slip away for a little while. During this time I only read books about diet, weight loss, and health. I focused all of my energy on planning healthy meals, getting to the gym and finding other ways to exercise. I talked non-stop about health, diet and exercise plans. And I became obsessed with the scale, clothing sizes and the way my shrinking body looked in the mirror. I needed to do this. And I am glad I did. I lost over 80 pounds with diet and exercise alone. I shrunk 6 clothing sizes. My self-esteem sky-rocketed. I got healthy. And it changed my life. Without this positive obsession, I don't think I would have accomplished this incredible feat.

Another positive obsession is my passion for writing. I have been obsessed with writing my whole life. There are times when the writing fire burns me up inside and it is all I can think about, talk about, read about and do. Then there are times when I find an interest in other things and I let the writing lay in wait for a little while, resting peacefully. But through all of this, the passion for writing is always there. Always. I want to write. I want to surround myself with writing tools and books and other writers. I want to live the writing life. This consumes me. I am obsessed. But I love it.

Some other positive obsessive phases I have gone through involve travel, education, nature, relationship, cooking, family, friendship, celebration and love. Each one is something that has taught me, nurtured me, enriched my life and inspired my dreams. I benefit immensely from these positive obsessions. I wouldn't be who I am without them.

But there are times when there's just too much and I crave that one, important, all-consuming obsession. Right now I am obsessed with a few things all at once and I can feel my mind and my heart being pulled in too many different directions. I find that I cannot give enough to each obsession, even though I try, and so it feels like I am neglecting some things that are important to me. I am obsessed with school, writing, my relationship, finding my way in a new town, health and weight loss, maintaining friendships and relationships with family, planning my future, discovering who I am, doing what I want........this is how I am risking mania. I am spreading myself thin trying to give my full energy and attention to all the things I want and love and need - and it's feeding me, nurturing me and keeping me going. But it's also making me a little crazy. Like Eric Maisel's dare above: I am finding my passion, finding my energy, igniting my being and, in the process, I am risking mania!

What are your positive obsessions? How do you risk mania in your life?

Love and Gratitude

Lately, it has become very apparent to me how important it is to surround myself with a comforting, supportive and entertaining circle of friends. Or, in many cases, circles of friends. Specifically, women friends.

I have women friends I have known for years, who know all the ups and downs of my life. Even after going weeks, months (or even years) without contact, I know I can call them or write them or meet them for a drink and it's like we've never been apart. We know each other. We care about each other. We connect in a way that never grows old, never gets tired or boring, never wavers. We are forever friends.

I have another circle of friends that I write with. These women know a side of me that many do not. They know the writer in me, the inner me. They are open and honest and supportive. They care about me unconditionally without judgment or criticism, and I feel the same. These women are a part of my life at this time for a reason. I hope we will remain in contact, but perhaps we won't. Either way they have touched my life in a way I cannot describe, as I hope I have done for them as well.

My mother, sisters and sister-in-law all hold special places within these circles. I connect with each on a different level, and each is important to me in their own particular way. Of course we have all had our ups and downs through our lives together (what family doesn't) but we are always, always there for each other. This circle is the most important to me in a fundamental, I-couldn't-do-without-them sort of way. They are my family, my friends, my center.

Another circle of friends is fairly new to me and is pure enjoyment. This circle is the women I have met in my new town. They are the wives and girlfriends of my boyfriend's best friends (does that make sense?). We all gather together often for parties, sporting events, girl's night out, children's birthdays and more. They are the circle that is always there, always around. It has taken me some time to get to know these women, but now that I do, I enjoy them immensely. When we are together it is all laughter and games, fun and good times. It is so nice to have a group of women friends to laugh with!

Then there are the random friends who have all touched my life in their own particular way. There are instructors I have worked with through my master's program that I have connected with through writing and truth-telling. They know things about me that I would share with no one else and each of them has supported me unconditionally. I treasure each of these relationships and hope to continue building upon them. There's the friends I met at my first residency who are trucking through this graduate program along side me. We are following similar paths right now that keep us connected. They are each special to me in their own way. There's the friend I met when I moved to a new town (alone) two years ago who has always been there with an invitation to lunch or a party or a drink at a local restaurant. I hope to remain in contact with her and get to know her better. And there's those random friends who come in and out of my life, each one sharing a part of themselves with me and teaching me something about life and friendship. These women continue to enrich my life and add to my personal story.

Each woman I know holds a special place in my heart. Each one has touched me, taught me, inspired me, and given me joy. As I journey through this life, I continue collecting pieces of these women, saving and savoring the moments and memories. They are my circles of friends, they are my center. Love and gratitude to each one.

Life Lessons

Be open and let the world in. Accept the gifts of the universe.
Be generous; share your gifts and spread joy to others.
Be strong; you have what it takes to make it through.
Be honest with yourself and others; the truth will set you free.
Be adventurous; let life be a journey, and travel on.
Be wise; think about the things you do and say. Make an effort to be conscious.
Be positive; it will all come back to you.
Be grateful; cherish the gifts you are given, the people who touch your life, the experiences you encounter and the opportunities yet to be discovered.
Be loving; share a kiss, a hug, a kind word or a smile. The smallest act of love can change the world.
Be a dreamer; let your mind wander, your thoughts climb, your aspirations fly.
Be you; do not let others shape you or change you or diminish you. Stand strong and believe in who you are.
Be kind; an act of kindness travels far.
Be aware; notice the little things around you that make the world a beautiful place. Notice the people that hold space in your life.
Be bold. Step up and stand out. Raise your voice. Take chances.
Be silly; laugh out loud and have fun. Laughter equals life.
Be creative; make, invent, produce, form, conceive, generate, forge, imagine, develop, design.

Faith

I went to church today - a Sunday morning Catholic mass. I am not Catholic. Well, wait...I was baptized Catholic but then my parents left the Catholic church and raised me and my sisters and brother, up to a certain point, in the Methodist church. Eventually there came a time when my mother set us free to believe whatever we wanted to believe - to search out our own faith. My older sister stuck with Methodist. My brother moved more towards nature-based religions. I'm not quite sure what my younger sister believes. And me? I'm confused.

I don't know what I believe. I am definitely not Catholic. I wouldn't even call myself Christian. I am not particularly an atheist - someone who does not believe in God. I guess I'm more of an agnostic. My Oxford Dictionary defines an agnostic as, "a person who believes that the existence or nature of God cannot be proven." That seems right to me.

I think religion is pure faith. It is the belief that something is out there. What? Whom? Where? How? Does anyone really know? And does anyone really have the right to tell me that their religion or their faith is the one? I'd rather look around, explore, sample all different religions and faiths and figure it out on my own. I'd rather put together the things that make sense to me, that move me, that bring me peace; and create my own faith. I'd rather be accepting and welcoming of all faiths; not shunning any, but not putting all my faith in any one either. I'd rather make it up as I go along.

So, while my visit to a Catholic church this morning was an interesting experience, I know I won't return (except for the occasional wedding, funeral or baptism - which is why I was there today). It's just not for me. It's not who I am or what I choose to believe.

I choose to believe in nature. I believe in evolution. I believe in karma. I believe in humanity. I believe in peace. That's a good start. That is how I am building my faith.

Remembering Love

I went to buy a Valentine's card today for the man in my life. What an endeavor! I wanted to buy one that said enough, but not too much; one that was sentimental but not sappy; one that showed my love but didn't splatter it all over in splashes of red and pink; one that was fun but not goofy. It's a tall order, I know. Most of the cards are for husbands and wives, children or that "someone special" (who might that be, exactly?). It was difficult to find a card for my relationship that didn't seem too generic or too much.


I thought about making my own (with markers and glitter and heart stickers) but then I thought that might be cheesy. I thought about just getting a blank card and writing in my own thoughts (I can write better than most of the cards I found), but I couldn't find any. I thought about just forgetting about the whole thing and, perhaps telling my boyfriend how I feel about him in my own words, but I do that anyway. And I even thought about conveniently forgetting that Valentine's Day exists.

But then I remembered that Valentine's Day is not only this commercial holiday created to sell cards and candy and stuffed animals and jewelry. It is really about love. We are so busy or numb or distracted or angry or forgetful or blind or preoccupied or selfish or bored in our daily lives. Sometimes we need a day dedicated specifically to love to help us remember how to share it, how to feel it. So I gave in to the commercialism and I settled on a card. I even went a little crazy with the chocolates and a gift bag (with hearts all over it!) and red tissue paper.

It won't matter tomorrow, when I give my gift, how it looks or what the card says. What will matter is the thought, the action; that I took the time to search for, choose and wrap up (so nicely!) a gift for someone I love. What will matter is that I love him.

Love is Strong

You do it out of love. Willpower is a weak idea; love is strong. ~Annie Dillard

What do you do out of love? What can you not live without? What is it that keeps you going; makes your heart beat fast and your adrenaline rush and your eyes brighten and your face glow? What do you love more than anything else in the world?

For me - it's writing. Journaling, crafting poetry, creating stories, making lists, writing my life - this is what I love. I love the blank page, so full of potential. I love the texture, the weight, the smell, the heft of a writing notebook or journal that is filled with the reflections of my days. I love the flat, white screen on my laptop just waiting for a story or poem, an essay or maybe even a novel. I love writing exercises and techniques, writing process and brainstorming. I love when the creativity burns inside me and I can write for hours without a thought. I love experimenting with styles, forms and genres. I love playing with words and images - making something come alive.

I love writing - everything about it. I write out of love. I write because I cannot live without it. I write because it keeps me going; it makes my heart beat fast and my adrenaline rush and my eyes brighten and my face glow. I write because I love it more than anything else in the world. That love is strong.

Storm Child

It's warm. I can hear the birds twittering away in the trees outside my windows. The air is humid, moist. The grey clouds above are ready to burst with cool, February rain. The winds will come, too. The meteorologists say 65 miles per hour today with chances of pop-up tornadoes. Thunderstorms are likely, as are downed trees and power lines. It feels like March - the wild and crazy weather of that month comes as no surprise. But this severe spring weather in February? This comes only a few weeks after a major snow/ice storm that crippled the area. And now we are bracing for winds. It's exciting!

I have always been "the storm child," as my mother calls me. She says I was born in a storm. And I can remember plenty of birthday parties (I was born in February) altered by snowstorms. In New Jersey, on the shore, when the winds began to blow and the tides began to rise, I was always quick to get to the beach to watch the waves. In the big Nor'Easter of 1992, I remember taking pictures out the windows of our house as the flood waters rose quickly, submerging our street and anything on it. I watched picnic benches and lifeguard chairs float by. I measured the rising tide as it made its way up the front steps to our house. And it wasn't until the flood waters invaded my bedroom that I experienced the full force of the storm. Standing halfway up the attic stairs watching the water seep from room to room, I cried out, "It's in my room!" I remember the devastation.

But I remember other storms - floods, snowstorms, ice storms, hurricanes - that excited me. It was always an adventure. The power of the natural world fascinates me. So today, though I will be indoors, wary of a possible tornado (I'm still not used to that phenomena out here in the Midwest), I will marvel at mother nature, watching the wind blow and the rain pour and the landscape transform itself into a wide wet world.

Settling in to the Familiar

It is so lovely to get back to something for which I feel total comfort, safety and support. It is like coming home again...relaxing...settling in to the familiar. I have come back again to my Tuesday morning class at a Cincinnati organization called Women Writing for (a) Change after a break between semesters. This is my third class with WWf(a)C and my second run at the Tuesday morning class. Greeting so many warm and familiar faces today lifted my spirits. And meeting so many women new to the group was truly inspiring. We have something here - worth working for, worth saving, worth continuing. The dynamic of women coming together to write, to share our words and stories, to support each other and to lift each other up with positivity, respect and friendship is like nothing I have ever experienced before. I am so grateful for WWf(a)C, for our facilitator Kathy, for the women participants and for the combined stories of our lives. I am newly inspired, motivated and moved. I am refreshed; ready to write, to create, to share. I have come back to the familiar and I am settling in.

February

The long, dark days of February pass by slowly. Winter's chill has set itself into my bones. I shiver, layered in fabrics that never seem to do enough. My skin withers and flakes - aching for moisture in this dry, brittle air. I find that I crave sunlight, warmth, and color right now more than ever. A flower, a ripe piece of fruit, sunlight cascading through a window - natural elements that comfort and calm. I am aching for spring - for long walks in the green grass, cool breezes that do not chill, an afternoon reading in the sunshine, the sound of the world buzzing around outdoors. I want to whip open the windows, air out the house, plant a garden, walk barefoot in the grass. I want to stroll carelessly about - watching, listening, observing the world. I want to hear the songs of birds in the backyard, and toss the dog a toy across the front lawn. I want to leave this cave of winter shadows and shivers. I want to reach out beyond the frosted windows and welcome the sun. The green world awaits.....in a few months.

Self-doubt

It creeps in like the rising tide upon the shore, sucking away the ground beneath me, washing away my footprints from moments ago. I stand alone, feet submerged in the cold waters, losing my footing, slipping away. This is self-doubt - rising, sucking, submerging, erasing. One comment, one mistake, one look of judgment, one criticism and I am overcome with the feeling. I'm not good enough. I don't know enough. I haven't learned enough...I'm not enough. It is as if one person's disapproval proves my unworthiness, one person's opinion out-weighs all others. I start to wonder: Why have I chosen this path? What brought me here? What made me think I could do this? What will I do when this doesn't work out? Where do I go from here?

But then I remember, at least sometimes, that I am good enough. I do know enough. I have learned plenty. I am enough. I am here because it is where I want to be. I am doing this because it is what I love more than anything in the world. I am following the path I have chosen because it is what is right for me. It will work out. I will be fine. And I will continue on no matter what anyone says or thinks or does.

I am living this life because it is mine. Because I want it. But I know that self-doubt will creep in again - over and over just like the tide. I just have to remind myself that it will seep out again, too, and once again I will be standing on my own two feet, on solid ground, looking out at the distant shore - and all that remains open to me from this vantage point.

Searching

I watch the snow falling as I sit cozied up in front of my computer with a shawl around my shoulders and space heater at my feet. I am reading and writing. I am working independently. I am creating, learning, growing, planning. It is what I have always wanted for myself. It is what I have always dreamed I'd be doing someday. So why do I feel so unproductive; so bored?

I read a few chapters, then put the book down and wander out to the kitchen to refill my glass of water. I open the computer to write and end up logging on to Facebook, checking my email or searching the Internet for books/classes/information. I begin an essay, get on a role, then wind up staring out the window at the snow. I check Facebook again. Then email. Then I go get some more water or a snack or just take a walk around the house. I may read some more but soon my eyes feel heavy and I need to move.

Am I bored? Am I blocked? Am I distracted? Am I lazy?

Not all days are like this. Some days I sit at the computer and write for hours - the creativity burns inside me. Sometimes I sit curled up on the couch and plow through an entire book in one sitting. Sometimes I accomplish magical things at this little computer desk, tucked away in a corner of a back bedroom. But other days I'd rather play with Kramer (the dog) or flip through SELF magazine or do the crossword puzzle from the morning paper, or, yes, play on Facebook.

Isn't this what I wanted? Or do I need more? I am always searching for opportunities - classes to take, books to read, places to visit, things to learn. Maybe I will always be searching. Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Is it too much about me?

Why does anyone write a blog? Do we write them because we have this basic need to be heard, to be known, to make our mark? Do we write them because we feel we have something unique to share? Do we write them because we just like to see our names in "print?" Is it selfish? Or is it perhaps a way to connect with others? Is it too much about "me?" Or is that why you are reading?

And speaking of those of you who read blogs, can you tell me why? Why do you spend your time (which I assume is precious to you) reading the ramblings of others? Do you think you might be inspired? Do you think you might connect? Do you think you might learn something? Why do you peer inside the lives of others? Is is voyeurism or interest? Is it to hear gossip or to give support?

I can tell you why I read and write blogs. I read them because I feel that each human being has their own story to tell and I want to support the sharing of those stories. And I write this blog because I want to share my own story. I am a writer and I have kept myself silent and hidden for too long. This blog is my beginning - my first attempt at getting my work "out there" to the world at large.

Now do not think I am foolish. I don't even know if anyone is even reading this blog. I get a comment or two from readers here and there but for the most part I write to this invisible, imagined "reader" - someone I hope is out there supporting me, cheering me on, reading my stories and hopefully, getting inspired to write their own.

So I'm sorry if this blog is too much about me.....but that's what I know and I think its worth sharing.

Decisions

Here's a decision I have to make: work for someone else or go out on my own.

I have this opportunity to work for a local small business, tutoring students in writing, English, homework help etc. etc. With this opportunity comes the prospect of creating and facilitating writing workshops for the same students (and more) over the summer.

The pros: It's an established business with notoriety. It has steady clients. I won't have to worry about the whole issue of starting my own business yet. And the money's not so bad, either.

The cons: If I work for this company, the owner believes it will be a conflict of interest to run my own writing workshops out of my home. This is what I had been planning to do as I complete my master's degree.

So, what do I do? Taking the job right now is easy money - now - without having to lay anything out, plan or create anything or worry about advertising/marketing, etc. But then again, I'd be working for someone else again, when my whole plan is to do it on my own. I guess I could always start this job, get experience, make contacts and make a little more money for now. Then there's no stopping me going out on my own later. Ugh. Decisions, decisions!

Any advice? Comments? Help???